


Marriage is What Brings Us Together

by Kelly123



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, American Wedding Traditions, And More Fluff, Brother-Sister Relationships, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Multi, One Shot, and fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-22
Updated: 2013-07-22
Packaged: 2017-12-20 23:43:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/893297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kelly123/pseuds/Kelly123
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Maybe they had the right idea way back when with the whole arranged marriage thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Marriage is What Brings Us Together

**Author's Note:**

> Unbeta-ed, and written on a phone (as is all my stuff) so please, forgiveness!

All he had wanted was a bit of peace and quiet, and now he's got a sobbing sister and a pounding head and dirt all over this stupid tux. He isn't sure how he needed up being the one whose shoulder she is crying on, but he is.

And it's awkward.

Maybe it's because her usually picture perfect face is splotched with red to clash with her hair and one strip of false eyelashes is dangling pathetically from her lid while something what looks dangerously close to snot threats to drip from her nostrils. Or maybe it's due to her being curled up in the dirt outside the church up to her elbows in what looks to him like a plethora of expensive, white spiderwebs (which he's pretty sure are not supposed to be dragged through the flower beds) when she typically flips out at a smudge on her sneakers.

But most likely, he is nauseatingly awkward in this most uncomfortable of situations because, even though she's his sister (half-sister, whatever), they've never been exactly what you might call...close. Civil on a good day, distant on most others, more like.

Sansa was the most proper out of the whole bunch of his family, too proper to ever send a hurtful word his way, but proper enough to keep her distance from the likes of him. Ever since she was old enough to learn the meaning of the word 'bastard,' she had felt like as much of a stranger to him as her mother (his step-mom) had, nothing like the rest of the close-knit Stark siblings. He loved Sansa...in away, but what he felt for her was nothing like the devotion he reserved for Arya and his brothers, who held the biggest part of his heart.

He wished one of them were here now. Arya might not possess a single feminine bone in her body, but surely there was some sort of maternal instinct that might've kicked in should they have switched places. The two sisters had a tendency to fight like cats and dogs, but he had seen them on rare occasions whispering secrets when they thought no one else was looking. Bran had always been a fantastic listener, and Rickon would threaten to maul whoever had made his sister cry, which would have lightened the mood at least. Robb obviously would've been the best option, but he was currently occupied with consoling his mom, who was most certainly losing it what with her most cooperative child up and disappearing minutes before she is supposed to walk down the aisle.

So maybe there is one place in the world Jon would desire to be even less than where he is right now. He shudders at the thought of Catelyn's surely violent reaction to Sansa's empty dressing room.

Strange though, that he should be the one to find the bride when he is probably the only one on this side of the family not looking. The search party had been assembled maybe twenty or so minutes ago, when Sansa's childhood best friend and maid of honor, Jeyne Poole, had come into the hall where Robb's wife Roslin was pinning his brother's and his boutonnières to their lapels. Jeyne had been wailing frantically about how she couldn't find the bride anywhere, and that the wedding was surely ruined and how could they just be standing there, not doing anything, when Sansa could very well be dead, for all they knew? Her emotional state was not at all aided by the fact that she was six months pregnant in her awkward-fitting pink dress, and it had taken all of the younger Mrs. Stark's skills as a kindergarten teacher to get her blubbering under control, lest the sound carry through to the adjacent room where Willas and the rest of the groomsmen were busy constructing a beer can pyramid while they were supposed to be getting ready. It wouldn't do to alert the groom that his bride-to-be had gone missing, especially if, knowing Jeyne's tendency towards the dramatic, it was all a false alarm. Robb retrieved Jeyne's own fiancé, Theon Greyjoy, from where he was drinking with the rest of the guys as inconspicuously as possible, so that he might be in charge of comforting his hiccuping and hormonal girlfriend while the others split up to run damage control. Robb had gone to his mother, Roslin to gather information from the other bridesmaids, and Theon had escorted a waddling Jeyne into another room before she could start up the waterworks again.

As for Jon, he had gone outside under the guise of looking around, but really just with intentions to have a cigarette, a nasty habit he had picked up in the academy but managed to kick until he was promoted on the force this past winter. He had been looking for a secluded corner where he could give himself cancer in peace, and had instead found the runaway bride huddled up and bawling like some sort of good witch dropped straight out of Oz and down into Kansas soil.

Not that they were anywhere near the Midwest, but anyway.

He had almost ashed right on top of her, when he happened to glance down and see the spectacle she had made of herself. She had looked up at him with those blue eyes completely bloodshot and streaming with tears and reached for his cigarette without words, and it was then he knew things were bad. Handing it over, he dropped down next to her and lit another, waiting for her to say the first word.

He knew he wouldn't have to wait long.

"Is everyone horribly angry with me?" She asked, in between gasps of breath and drags of smoke.

"Nobody is mad, Sansa." Well, that might have been a lie. Theon had looked pretty pissed to be pulled away from the drinking festivities, and Arya had been none too happy about wearing a bridesmaid dress period, let alone for a wedding that might not even happen, but she didn't need to know that. "We're just worried about you. Are you...okay?"

She threw him a withering look, which, despite her almost comical appearance, still managed to make him draw back inside his tux. Right, stupid question.

"Okay...do you wanna, you know...talk about it?"

Oh god, please say no.

"It's just..." She sniffled, stubbing out her own butt and reaching to take his from between his lips.

No such luck then.

"It's just, isn't this happening a little fast? I mean, Willas and I getting married?"

This made sense, actually, and he had thought his sisters romance with her former professor had been a bit of a whirlwind. But he wasn't going to tell her that, not now at least. "What makes you say that?"

"Well, we only just started dating once I graduated, and that was barely even a year ago. What if I don't really love Willas like I thought, what if I don't even really know him?"

"Umm...he seems like a great guy?" Jon offered lamely. Truly, he liked what he knew of Willas...it was just that he knew very little. They had known one another for most of her undergrad, but had only dated a handful of months before he proposed, and even their engagement hadn't even lasted much longer. True, things had moved quickly, but when his sister wanted something...she got it. And besides, he seemed loads better than that dolt Joffrey she had dated in High School.

"He is great." She said with a sigh, a smile creeping its way into her expression. "He's kind, and loving, and just so...authentic, you know?"

"Sounds like you know him okay to me. What's the problem then?"

"It's just...I think I might have rushed him into all this. I mean, I hate to admit this, but when I found out Jeyne was engaged, I wasn't as supportive as a best friend should have been. I never thought Jeyne Poole would be getting married before I did, and I was terribly jealous."

That, of course, was the second worst kept secret in Westeros. The first, of course being that Jeyne's wedding would be that of the shotgun kind. Jon had had his doubts about whether or not Theon would stick around, but the promise of impending fatherhood seemed to have had a maturing effect on the man he had known as a womanizer almost his whole life. Well, somewhat.

"So...do you feel like you forced him into the marriage or something?" He asked, confused as to how all this played into his sister running out on the day she had been waiting her whole life for.

"Not really, I guess. Willas isn't like that. He knows what he wants from life, I suppose that comes from dating an older man. He wouldn't do anything he didn't feel strongly about, I just was wondering if...would it have been better if we had waited a little longer?"

"What might that have changed? Your...feelings?

"I don't think so. I couldn't imagine not loving him." (but he thought she said...) "And I know he loves me."

"Okay..."

"Yeah..."

"So..."

"You're right."

He had no idea what had just happened, but Sansa was standing up and brushing the dirt from her dress like she was going to get married. And maybe even more surprisingly than the strange and seemingly one-sided conversation they had just had, was when she followed it up by leaning in close and pressing her lips to his cheek.

"Thanks Jon. You're a good brother."

And the word 'half' wasn't anywhere in sight. Or sound...whatever.

When she put her hand in his, he only contemplates the gesture for half a moment before he lets himself lean down and press a kiss to her curls, careful not to muss her carefully coiffed 'do. She squeezes his hand and it's not awkward at all, and leads him back inside to face the music with a smile on her face. He knows it's a real smile, and he knows she is going to make a wonderful bride and wife, and maybe on second thought she isn't as much of a stranger as he had always assumed. Which is pretty cool, but it would have been nice if it hasn't taken a near family disaster to find that out.

The two of them sneak back inside the bridal party's quarters to find the rest of their family still in a tizzy, and it's instant chaos...but the good kind. Sansa's mother flings herself into her daughter's arms and the bridesmaids all start to work on putting the bride back together before he can blink an eye. Soon everyone is clapping him on the shoulder and laughing and someone pops a bottle of champagne in celebration. His sister-in-law accepts a glass as Arya starts passing them around, but empties it surreptitiously into Robb's flute when no one is looking. Jon catches Roslin's eye with a raised brow and she just blushes and holds a finger to her lips while Robb grins so big he thinks his brother's face might crack from the strain of it. So evidently that's an announcement for another day. Never a dull moment...

Rickon starts an argument with their dad about having a drink since it's a special occasion, saying champagne flutes are barely even a mouthful anyway, and Uncle Benjen backs up his fellow baby of the family (even if Rick is only a high school freshman) with a slight slur to his words of defense. Soon everyone is taking sides, and even Sansa seems fine with supplying alcohol to minors since it's her wedding day and evidently the whole world should be celebrating, but Jon is distracted from the ensuing debate when he feels a subtle pressure on his wrist. 

He couldn't have been any more surprised to find his stepmother next to him than if Harry Potter suddenly occupied the space beside him, but she is. With some air of discomfort she tugs him out of the crowd and whispers a 'thank you' he sees reflected honestly in her eyes, and he feels like his whole world has been turned upside down. Her smile is tight and she drops his hand as soon as she has his attention, but it's enough. He knows it's a horrible idea, and he definitely shouldn't do what he's thinking, but his arms are around her before he can tell them to stop. She freezes at first, but hugs him back all the same and he releases her after a just a moment. Best not to push his luck.

The ceremony is nice, he thinks, albeit a little long and frequently interrupted by Jeyne's gasping sobs. Jon jabs Theon in the side from where they stand as ushers, and shoots the dark-haired man a teasing grin at the prospect of his own upcoming nuptials. Theon just shakes his head, but he's smiling at the same time, and he can't seem to take his eyes off the swollen, sobbing girl ahead of them. Sansa is crying too, but the soft, pretty kind, not at all like earlier, and Willas looks star-struck like he can't believe his own luck all the while. Jon never thought he'd be happy to witness some dude lay one on his sister, but when the couple is pronounced man and wife, he can't help the well of emotion that threatens to build up inside him as Willas stands up out of the wheelchair he had been sitting in for their vows and wrap his arms around a wide-eyed Sansa. He's pretty sure she made the right decision. Scratch that, he's never been more of sure of anything...but that could be some of the champagne talking.

When the guests are dismissed there are an extraordinary amount of wedding party pictures, and he rolls his eyes along with a bored looking Rickon, but maybe it's more fun smiling and linking arms with the rest of the family than he'd thought it would be. Even with Catelyn's creeptastic wannabe-cougar younger sister standing way too close to him for comfort during the group shots. There is no way it's still an accident when her hand brushes his butt for the third time while they are posing, but he tries to take it as a compliment.

They make their entrance at the reception and the following toasts are ridiculous and drawn-out, because of reasons...named Jeyne. Sansa seems touched though, so that's all that really matters as they clink glasses. Willas's best man and brother Garlan has them all in stitches when it's his turn with the mike, even though most of what he says isn't even a little bit appropriate for mixed company. Judging from the picture Theon had taken on his phone of the finished beer can tower, it was a wonder Garlan was even standing at all though, really. Dad pulls the whole thing together at the end with his speech, and being as he is a man of few words it is short and sweet just as anyone would have suspected. What little he has to say is surely heartfelt though, and even Arya sniffles a little bit as Ned embraces his eldest daughter. Swiping at her eyes angrily, she mutters under her breath that she is definitely eloping if Dad is going to go all mushy at weddings now. But there is a wistful look in her eyes during the father-daughter dance, and Jon thinks she might just change her mind when the time comes (he just hopes that time is a long, long way off).

Sansa wants everyone to make the night a party, and when the music swings into something suitable to move to, the wedding party is expected to be those first few brave couples to hit the dance floor. He immediately sidles up next to Brienne as they couple off, because she's a bridesmaid and he's an usher and they are co-workers already, so that's close enough. Arya had convinced Sansa, after much debate and wheedling, to hire her friend Gendry's band for the evening, and he must admit the boys clean up well and play better than he had expected. Still, he doesn't like the looks the older boy is shooting at his baby sister while he keeps the beat on the drums, and so he leads the taller woman close enough to the stage to keep an eye on them. 

Arya isn't fooled, and takes the opportunity to stomp her brother's toes anytime he gets within range. She doesn't dance much, but lets her Uncle Edmure take her for a few spins whenever he needs to escape the divorcees his sisters keep trying to introduce him to. Jon has always been cool with Mr. Tully, but that was until he started conspiring with his niece on the best way to ambush Jon and his poor shoes. Nevertheless, his feet are aching, but his resolve is strong. At least Gendry can't leave the stage anytime soon.

Brienne laughs at him, tells him the drummer seems like a nice kid and even if he wasn't he's got more than a couple inches on Jon if it came down to it. He snaps back something about outranking her, and in the process of arguing his point leads them directly into the path of the groom's siblings. Margaery and Loras, who had to have choreographed...whatever it is they are doing, for months before the wedding, stare at them unblinkingly when interrupted. Apologies are mumbled, and the Tyrells allow them to return plodding around the floor while his partner smirks a silent victory. Brienne is no great dancer, but neither is he, but at least the company is pleasant while they stumble through the steps as best they can as the rest of the guests dip and swirl around them. They trade patrol stories, and sports stats, and he teases her about not bringing a plus-one in retaliation for her quips about his height as though he hadn't come stag tonight as well. At least Brienne's got a significant other, even though they both know Catelyn would've really lost it if Jaime Lannister came waltzing into the wedding like he wasn't banned from the premises. 

But if this night has taught him anything, it's that it is an evening for surprises, because before he knows it Brienne's boyfriend is cutting in on a slow song like he owns the place. Jon barely blinks and suddenly and he's left alone on the dance floor with his mouth gaping open like a fish, without a co-conspirator to cling to.

Jaime isn't fazed a bit, as usual. "Don't look so shocked, Jonny boy, my niece works for the catering company. I've got an in."

He had thought the blonde girl serving bruschetta during cocktail hour had looked familiar. And Bran had looked to be getting rather cozy with her too...

So truly, he was the only one left without a date.

"Really Jon," Brienne says kindly, looking more comfortable in her pink dress now that Jaime's arm is around her waist than she has all night, "don't act like you haven't noticed Margaery Tyrell staring you down all night."

Actually, he hasn't. But now that she mentioned it...

"She hasn't been able to take her eyes off you since you nearly amputated her leg with that killer fox-trot of yours."

Jaime was obviously rubbing off on Brienne. And admittedly, even with her newfound wit being at his own expense, Jon found he rather liked her with a bit of confidence. Damn those Lannisters, for he feared the next wedding he would be forced to dance at would be theirs.

But possibly, he might not be dancing alone at that one.

"The wench is right, bastard. Like I told her, the best thing about putting on a bridesmaid dress is having someone else take it off, even if she isn't really a bridesmaid, but who ever heard of a groomsmaid anyway? Regardless, you might be a bit dull, but I think even a sullen kid like yourself could find himself to be up to that task."

He is not blushing, because he is 26 years old, and talking about taking a girl's-err, woman's, clothes off does not make a grown man blush.

But when he turns around to find Margaery Tyrell in fact staring him down like she can see every dirty thought Jaime has planted in his head...and likes it, well, someone must have turned up the thermostat in the ballroom, because he feels a flush rising up the back of his neck. He doesn't so much ask her to dance as much as swallow dryly and attempt a smile, but it seems to work. If possibly, he dances even worse with her for a partner, because he doesn't know how not to step on her toes if she is going to insist on molding every inch of her body against his. He doesn't mind, but he can't shake the feeling that the way she is moving is far better suited for dancing with the lights out. And in private. And horizontally.

The night winds down and Margaery tears herself away from him to join the rest of the single ladies in the middle of the dance floor. It's pretty obvious that Sansa throws her bouquet right at Jeyne, and the other girls make a show of lunging for it, but no one is too upset when it lands right into her outstretched arms. She almost starts crying again, but catches everyone off guard when she pumps her fist into the air and whoops in triumph instead. Theon and Rickon practically come to blows over the garter, even though Jon is pretty sure his little brother doesn't even know what it is supposed to signify. They are literally rolling over one another on the floor by the time Robb and Garlan pull the younger boy off and leave Theon to claim the flimsy piece of lace and ribbon which promises him the honor of being the next man in line to wed. He's scrambling to his feet in victory when Jaime Lannister, again, comes out of nowhere. He snatches the thing from Theon's grasp like it was nothing, and Greyjoy's face falls as he stands too stunned to react. The golden-haired pretty boy (who is hardly a boy anymore, but still manages to give off that aura) makes a beeline for the exit after blowing a kiss at the bride, and Brienne follows close behind. She's making apologies in vain as they scramble for the door, but the words end up coming off as less than sincere, judging from the wide smile which is lighting up her face. Rickon uses the diversion as a chance to chug unattended drinks off of empty tables, and so he doesn't seem too upset about his loss. 

Bran isn't present for the garter toss, but Myrcella hadn't turned up for the bouquet toss either, so...yeah.

Sansa and Willas ride away in a beyond cheesy Cinderella-style carriage pulled by horses the groom has bred himself, but not before Robb and Jon corner the older man and make a few thinly-veiled threats about their sister's happiness and security. Willas does his best to nod along solemnly and not laugh, and judging by how drunk and not at all intimidating Robb is right now, Jon respects him all the more for it. Especially when his own plans for the night include less than honorable intentions for the groom's own only sister.

His clothes are scattered across Margaery's entry hall, living room, and bedroom floor by the time he recognizes one of the songs coming from her neighbor's party next door as one Gendry's band had played earlier in the night. It isn't until he's got that stupid 'groomsmaid' dress off of the brunette that he realizes he hadn't seen Arya for the last half hour or so after the band had packed up...or the drummer. He has it in his mind to get very upset about protecting his little sister's virtue when a pair of green panties go flying past his head. Turns out, the Tyrell girl has a rose tattoo on her (very lovely) butt.

And really, his sister has been telling him she can take care of herself for years now, hasn't she?

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the Princess Bride, Jaime's bridesmaid dress quote is a paraphrasing from some movie I now can't remember, and inspiration is from the fact that everyone I know (and their mom) is getting married.
> 
> Obviously, I'm not...because I'm in love with book Jon, and wish that tv Jon would learn how to close his mouth before he catches flies in it.


End file.
